Crazy in Love
Urmila lay rigid, focused on breathing evenly, as Bai left their bed. The alarm-clock flashed
2.42, she was due at Crowhurst Road police-station in five hours. Bai's next DJ set is in two
days, sleep was her passion like baking and singing Beyonce at karaoke, and this was the
third Wednesday this month she'd sneaked away in the night. Bai saved her crusts for
pigeons, once gave her coat to a homeless man. But there was trust and there was willful
ignorance.
No unusual activity on their bank account, and they now gave money monthly to the
Multiple Sclerosis Society as well the RSCPA. Urmila sat in front of her computer-screen as
it blinked temptation. She craned her head to check her boss was submerged in paperwork
and typed in her girlfriend's name. No recent arrests for Sheng Bai. One speeding ticket on
Marine Parade at 3am.
When she told Bai she'd swapped to the nightshift as a favour to a colleague, she
clutched her plait to restrain herself from covering her mouth. Bai kissed her on the forehead,
said "I'll miss you, sweetie," and carried on ironing her purple blouse as Urmila waited for
her ears to stop melting.
She brought banana chips and masala tea to the stake-out, comfort-food, and tried
not to speculate on who would emerge at Brighton pier. Some random hook-up from
Patterns? When shaven-headed Danny Blake, recently released all-purpose villain, sauntered
out, she sprayed luke-warm tea over the dashboard and set off the windscreen-wipers. Bai
rushed over, bobbed hair swinging.
"It's not for me! Grandfather gives me money, and I bake the stuff into brownies.
His muscle spasms are worse!"
Urmila mopped up with her denim jacket sleeve, eyes on the steering-wheel.. "I'm
off-duty, miss. You better get home, it's dangerous here at night."
Anita Goveas